“You don’t, do you?” I step closer, neck craned, as Kate backsagainst the entryway wall. I swear her breath quickens as I rest a forearm above her head, but her expression looks bored.
“If you can truly be yourself with him, prove it.”
“I don’t need to prove anything to you,” she snaps.
“Idareyou,” I whisper, and her wide eyes flit to mine. “Show him the real you. The goofy, sassy,sexyKate. The one who hates losing. Speaking of which, I’m sure that the real you would justhate”—I tap a fingernail against my clipboard on my thigh—“if I happened to finish this list before you and yourboyfriend.”
“He’s not—” Kate’s smart mouth responds before she can clamp her lips shut.
“He’s not?” My smirk tips sideways.
“Not yet, anyway,” she says cooly. “But he will be. And you really think I’m so childish to race through a museum to prove a point that I don’t need to prove?”
“Not childish.Spontaneous.” My gaze languidly roves over every inch of her face as I murmur, “Bold. Independent. Someone who makes up her own mind about what she wants.” I lean closer. “What doyouwant?”
“I-I…” Her breath comes in uneven bursts. She watches me like I’m a caged tiger: dangerous enough to be wary of, but also interesting and exciting. “I-I think… I want to dothis.”
She slaps the clipboard out of my hand, and it clatters to the marble tile. I’ve barely scooped it up before I see her long hair whipping around the corner to the elevator.
“Oh, no you don’t,” I chuckle darkly.
But the dumb pen from my clipboard is nowhere to be found, and after too many seconds, I spot it and chase after her. I can hear her genuine laugh echoing down the hall as I barrel down it at breakneck speed. Thankfully, this wing of the museum is devoid of guests at the moment.
The elevator doors are closing with Kate inside, still laughing her head off.
My smile is so big it hurts, and I try to memorize the sound of her laugh. It’s been an eternity since I’ve heard it.
Just before the sliver of Kate’s face disappears, she waggles her fingers and blows me a kiss.
I’m so shocked that I almost slam into the closed elevator. Did Iimagine that? Did I fall and bash my head while I was running, and now I’m hallucinating?
My chest is heaving, but my thoughts keep racing. She didn’t mean that. Of course she didn’t. She’s a tease—always has been.
I jab the elevator button, pacing and slapping the clipboard against my thigh.
I’m ninety percent positive she didn’t mean it. She’s likely cussing herself out, but she stilldidit. In her reckless, most real version of herself, she stilldidit.
Because on some level, she wanted to.
A smile blooms on my face.
I’ll let her win this time, since I’m a gentleman and all.
But give me time, and I’m going to winherback.
eighteen
PAST
BRANDON
“I’m going to win,” Kate informs me as we stride toward the front door of the arcade.
“You don’t even know what games we’ll be playing,” I say.
“Doesn’t matter.”
I laugh, grasp the handle on the door to the arcade, and pull it open for Kate. She throws me a saucy little wink as she passes in a scented cloud of what I’ve come to figure out is jasmine. At least that’s what her shampoo bottle said when I stayed at her place for the first time last night.
